Another story about the late, great Michael Gambon came to light in an FT article by Nancy Gryspeerdt. When he feared he could no longer learn his lines, he was fed them by Nancy Gryspeerdt, who got the job by chance when she was working as a director’s assistant on Churchill’s Secret, when Michael Gambon was playing the lead. In this film she hid under Churchill’s bed and shouted the lines to Gambon and her voice was cut afterwards. This is much easier than feeding lines through an earpiece, which takes talent, practise and an almost telepathic trust between the feeder of the lines and the actor. This Gryspeerdt achieved, and we owe her thanks for prolonging Gambons work and riding his insecurities which occasionally made him turn on her. The article is revealing, because what was remarkable about Michael Gambon’s acting was it’s humanity, which came through it’s freshness, which was real. No matter what part he played, he showed the meaning of what it took to be the person he was playing. His voice, so well seasoned from all his work in theatre, rang true. Gambon’s apparent relaxation in his film work came at a cost. Gryspeerdt says that “his frequent terror that his talent would leave him was to make no systematic attempt to harness it.” He preferred to have fun and enjoy boyish jokes and mess around with clocks and motors in his workshop.